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Murderer
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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Jul 15, 2017
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Fiction
Mystery
My hands tightened around her neck, squeezing the air out of her. Her body slouched to the ground. Unwilling to move, unwilling to breathe, and unwilling to love. She broke my heart, and now I broke her string of life. It's a fair deal for me. I'm a murderer. I murder for the good of man kind. I murder for the safety of the world; secretly and silently. But damn sure effectively.
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#653
gruesome
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*A preview of my novel The Choking Kind. Now available for purchase!* I wasn't a good person. But I wasn't bad either. I knew that. Sometimes I caused trouble, and sometimes it came looking for me. I'm not saying that to make you feel sorry for me. You shouldn't. I saw everything coming, and I allowed it to happen. I wasn't naïve or careless. I wasn't a victim. I was a deer staring at the headlights, and I paused to admire the ethereal glow - mesmerized - uncaring about the collision that was about to take place. It would cost me everything.

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